


And When I'm Gone

by CathyFowl



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Adamant Fortress (Dragon Age), Established Relationship, F/M, Major Character Injury, Modern Girl in Thedas, One Shot, Possession, and death, but maybe will expand into a longfic, i dunno, spoilers in the tags
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-04
Updated: 2020-09-04
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:35:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26290495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CathyFowl/pseuds/CathyFowl
Summary: During the siege of Adamant Fortress, Lavellan manages to get everyone out of the Fade alive. Well, mostly alive.
Relationships: Cullen Rutherford/Original Female Character(s), Female Inquisitor/Cullen Rutherford, Female Lavellan/Cullen Rutherford
Comments: 8
Kudos: 63





	And When I'm Gone

She was fine. She was _fine_. 

If she kept telling herself that enough times, it might even become true. The blood slowly seeping from the wound in her stomach said otherwise though. She was just grateful that her leathers were black. Everything would come to a standstill if her companions realized how badly hurt she was.

"Inquisitor!" Hawke's booming voice drew her attention back to the fight at hand. They were almost through.

"Take Varric!" She shouted over the screeches of the Nightmare demon. The dwarf was hurt even worse than herself. They needed to get out of the Fade. _Now_.

They were almost at the rift. She imagined that she could see the fortress beyond its green edges. Just a little longer... just a little further...

What should've been a spindly spider leg, but in its monstrous proportions closer resembled a tree trunk, came out of nowhere and knocked Lavellan off her feet. With a shout, Warden Alistair was by her side, blocking another jab of the demon's limb with his shield, making it creak dangerously under the weight. She was struggling to draw breath. Every inhale sent a lance of pain through her abdomen and every exhale ended on a throb of a deep ache in her chest.

Maybe she wasn't better off than Varric.

"Come on, Inquisitor," Alistair panted under the strain before knocking away the offending limb. "You promised me a taste of your cheese selection. It wouldn't do if you went back on your word."

Lavellan would've laughed if it didn't exacerbate the pain throughout her body. She answered only with a grin, words hissed through her teeth. "Not a chance."

They had been cut off from the rest of the team. She could see Hawke half carrying, half dragging Varric through the rift. Blackwall and Dorian were covering their escape while trying to distract the Nightmare. It was a risky maneuver. She needed to end this soon or they would all perish. A nice, big fireball should do the trick.

"On my count," she said through gritted teeth and pushed herself to her feet using her staff for balance. Alistair took a fighting stance with his sword and shield at the ready.

_"NOW!"_

The fireball was gigantic, the biggest she'd ever made. She had poured all her remaining mana into it as a last-ditch effort. It blasted off the ends of two of the giant demon's legs and set a third on fire. Alistair cut through the last limb in their way with surprising ferocity and shielded their retreat to the rift. The pained shriek that the demon had let out almost deafened Lavellan.

There was no time to revel in the success of her casting, they ran for their lives.

Dorian and Blackwall went through the rift first when they saw that Lavellan and Alistair were clear of the Nightmare's reach. Just another few steps. She gritted her teeth so hard against the pain in her stomach that she felt her jaw cramp. Just another arm's length...

She had burst through the rift behind Alistair, immediately turning on her heel and raising her left hand to close the tear in the Veil. It snapped shut with the most satisfying boom and the shrieks of dying demons echoed around her before a momentary silence fell.

_By Mythal's grace, they did it!_

"Inquisitor!" Cullen's voice shattered the silence. Cheers went up and bounced off the walls of Adamant Fortress in place of the clash of swords and demon claws. She couldn't help but smile at the relief on her Commander's face. She never thought she would ever care for a shemlen so much, but if she was honest, she really _did_ love the man.

Hawke appeared with a limping Varric in tow. Apparently, all the dwarf needed was a health potion. They had run out of those before facing off the Nightmare. They relayed that the mages under the Nightmare's influence were now freed. An Inquisition scout reported that the Archdemon left as soon as Lavellan and her team fell into the Fade and that the Wardens not under thrall helped their forces fight the demons.

All was well it seemed.

She sighed and allowed herself a soft smile. Her vision was blurring and her whole world seemed to tilt to the side. She took a stumbling step forward. There was still so much to do, she needed to continue... to fight another day but...

"Ellana!" Cullen's panicked shout was the last thing she heard before she collapsed and the darkness took her.

***

There were... people... clamoring around her... Frightful and hectic... They had so much life... so much energy... She felt tired... just... so... tired... It was hard... to think... to be... to...

More noise... Careful hands... lifting... laying... looking for and finding her wounds...

It was hard to breathe... Maybe... she should take a break... Just... a short... break...

She heard her heart... thump... thump...... thump......... thump..........

***

Silence.

The darkness, deeper than it had ever been.

A dark laughter. The Nightmare's glee over her failure.

No. She couldn't allow it. She must live. She must defeat Corypheus. She must lead the Inquisition. She must...

But she was so tired... so very, very tired...

What would they do? Without the Anchor... Without their symbol...

She must live. But she couldn't.

She wished Solas was there. To advise her. He would've known what to do. He would've known if...

"They need me..."

_"So help them."_

"But I cannot... not anymore..."

_"You must."_

"I did my best. Now I shall rest."

_"But what about them? Who will help them? You were not supposed to die!"_

"Help them in my stead."

There was a ripple of surprise through the Fade. Then a tug and a pull and then she was finally at peace.

***

She was half-aware of the desperation of the people around her.

"Dorian! You have to help her! We don't have a healer!" The demanding voice was familiar. It stirred a deep comfort in her core that she had only associated with family before.

"Commander, I'm doing the best I can," a second man answered, his accent was the sweetest melody to her ears. Oh, how she loved to listen to him speak. "Vishante kaffas, you know that healing isn't exactly my forte," he swore and then grumbled an aside. "Where is that Maker-damned elf..."

"I am here," the third voice was calm and brought with it a sense of serenity, a soft determination, and certainty that everything was going to be alright.

"Solas! How...? Never mind that. Help me, she's not breathing!"

There was an influx of power then and warmth washed through her. She hadn't even realized how cold she was. Cold as a corpse. And now, alive again, she drew a shuddering breath. It hurt, scraped through her lungs at first.

"Oh, thank the Maker." The first voice said with a sigh of relief. It carried an equal warmth to her heart as the magic that was pouring into her. She felt life slowly suffuse her limbs again.

She opened her eyes slowly, still disoriented. A man's face with golden hair and amber eyes filled her vision.

"Ellana? How are you feeling? Are you...?" His voice trailed off when she raised a hand towards his face.

He had the most distracting scar over his lip. She remembered that scar... but this man couldn't be... Could he?

Her heart skipped a beat and sank as her fingers made contact. No. This wasn't right. This couldn't be real.

She let her hand drop and her eyes flutter closed.

"Commander, she needs rest," Solas said. Except it couldn't have been him. As it couldn't have been Cullen worrying about her well-being and it couldn't have been Dorian who was now agreeing with Solas and pushing the Commander out of the tent.

"Would you watch over her for now?" Dorian asked. "I'm covered in her blood and need a moment regardless."

"Of course," Solas answered in that distant, measured tone of his.

"I will relieve you in a few hours," Dorian promised and continued to usher a protesting Cullen out of the tent, following close behind.

She waited until their footsteps faded away. Then she stopped hiding her returned strength, sat up, swinging her legs off the cot she had been laid out on.

"Solas? We have a problem," she said without looking at him.

"What is it, Inquisitor?" Solas' voice was carefully kept even.

She turned and looked him in the eye.

"I am not Ellana Lavellan," she said. "I am not the Inquisitor."

**Author's Note:**

> This idea has been niggling away at me for a while now. Let me know in the comments if you'd like to see more. Thanks for reading!


End file.
